You're My Brother
by I-Write-Mush-And-I-Like-It
Summary: Arthur struggles with a budding addiction to alcohol, and the effects it's having on his family. Young!Heroes Good!Linderman Good!Angela *Chapter 6 up!* Warnings: Child Abuse, Kidnapping, and uncapitalized words, because my shift key sticks sometimes.
1. The Beginning

Title- You're My Brother

Rating- PG/PG-13 at the most

Warnings (in theory)- Cursing, sexual innuendo (lol… love it.), minor child abuse (emotional, and a little physical, but nothing unreasonably shocking, or graphic.), and my favorite… Guy Love!! (But not of the slash variety.)

Pairings- Nathan/Heidi Angela/Arthur

POV- switches from Arthur, to Peter, to Nathan, to Angela, then repeats. Unless I see need to switch the order, which I may. Just to keep you on your toes, you see.

AN- New obsession, new story. Enjoy. Reviews make me smile, flames make me cry, but both keep writing!

AAN- don't be angry with me, those who read my HP fiction, I'm working on a new chapter for Glass Slippers right now. Only a few more pages until it's done!

AAAN- also, my computer doesn't recognize if 'Peter' is capitalized or not, so sorry if I miss any.

AAAAN- also, please enjoy my uber creative page breaks. Feel free to use them in any text or IM conversation you may find need of them.

***:-) (Party!!)**

"I'm telling you, Angela, something is not right with that boy! All he does is daydream, instead of doing something meaningful, like that huge pile of homework he _swears_ he's already completed. Why, when Nathan—"

"Arthur, how many times must I stress this to you? Peter is not Nathan! Children like him, like I was, are not meant to sit cooped up in a classroom, studying boring textbooks day after day. That is strictly a Petrelli trait, and Peter gets his ways from my side of the family. You know this, Arthur. You already have your favorite. Don't go and corrupt mine." Arthur watched, frustrated, as his wife of nearly 30 years left the room. He winced as the unnecessarily loud bedroom door lock clicked. All because of Peter. Dreamy, childish, useless Peter. If Peter had been the girl they had all been expecting, things would be different. He had been so prepared for a little princess to dote upon, having already raised the perfect son, when the doctor came out of the delivery room holding a tiny blue blanket, he was more then a little upset. He had already done the obligatory 'model son' raising that was expected of the Petrelli line. What was he to do with a second son, one who wasn't even very son-ish to begin with? The first time he held Peter, he figured they simply switched the blanket, knowing that there was no way the tiny, pale pink lump of baby could be a boy. Too quiet, for one. Nathan had screamed for months on end, but little Peter stayed blissfully silent, even when hungry, or tired. It just wasn't right. For generations it had always been the same; raise the perfect son until adulthood, then dump any and all restrained paternal needs onto sweet baby girl. A simple, flawless script. Until Peter.

He heard a small cough, and turned, an exasperated look on his face.

"Go to bed, Peter. It's past midnight." A little boy of about 10 crept out from behind the couch, cheeks red with embarrassment. Arthur bit back a smile when peter tripped over the rug. Even someone as cold hearted as Arthur Petrelli was not immune to the general adorable-ness that was Peter. Born two months premature, Peter had always been, and probably always would be, small for his age. Yet another thing that annoyed Arthur. All Petrelli men were tall, well built, with dark brown eyes, and dark brown hair. But no, Peter just had to be different, even in that aspect. With his big hazel eyes, and soft black hair, he was the pride and joy of all Angela's childless friends.

"Why do you and Mommy fight all the time?" Peter's soft voice pulled Arthur out of his musings. The man frowned, itching to take that annoyingly sweet, concerned look off of his face. Why had Nathan never looked at him like that? Like he was the only person in the world who mattered?

"We were just discussing a matter of great annoyance, Peter. Now go to bed. I don't want to hear about you falling asleep in class. _Again._" He added. Peter had the grace to blush, before rushing at his father and wrapping his small, warm arms around the stony man's waist.

"Night, Daddy!" he chirped, before running up the stairs to his room. A dull thump, followed by a whispered "ouch!" signaled that Peter had made his way to his mess of a room, reasonably unscathed. With a sigh, Arthur made his way to the liquor cabinet, pulling out his newest friend, Whiskey.

**#_0 (black eye)**

"So Nathan, how's that girl of yours doing? Hearing wedding bells yet?" Arthur rolled his eye, mentally, as Angela asked about Nathan's newest girlfriend, a well bred girl by the name of Heidi, for the fourth time, all getting vague, bush avoiding answers from their oldest son. Nathan had arrived home at about four in the morning, from a two-month long school trip to Haiti. Nathan was studying psychology, in order to up his chances in the shark tank that was lawyer-hood, and there had been whisperings of a rare bout of memory loss over there. It made Arthur proud, how dedicated his oldest was to becoming a lawyer.

"For the last time, ma, we've only been dating a few weeks!! I swear, you're relentless. I'm surprised you haven't married Peter off already, the way you carry on!" Arthur felt his heart give a strange lurch at the mention of his youngest, currently asleep in bed. Passing it off as heartburn, he asked the morning housekeeper, Maisy, to see if Peter was awake yet.

"Of course, sir." Her voice seemed clipped, and short, for some reason. With a mental shrug, he forgot any and all thoughts about pissy house workers. She wasn't paid to be polite, after all.

A few minutes later, Maisy walked into the room, a drowsy Peter clinging to her skirt. Arthur frowned.

"Peter, please let go of the housekeeper. She is not some doll for you to cling to." Even he flinched at the unexplainable agitation in his voice. Peter's hand quickly released Maisy.

"Sorry, sir." He whispered. Maisy sent Arthur a bravely rebellious glare, and gave Peter a pat on the head before returning to her chores. Angela turned to him, stunned. Her husband has never shown that much emotion in front of their children.

"Arthur, what is going on? Why does all the house staff look as if they would take great pleasure in feeding you a particularly slow acting poison?"

"No idea, dear." He answered, opening the paper that sat by his plate of eggs.

"Pete, what happened to your face?" Nathan's voice was sharp as ever, but held that softer undertone reserved for Peter and Peter alone. The ten year old's eyes flicked over to Arthur for a second, before returning to Nathan, and now his mother.

"I-I fell. Off of my bed." Arthur sighed, put down his paper, and gave his youngest an appraising once over. No blood, no bones, no tears. The kid was fine. But wait. Was that a—a _bruise_ on Peter's cheek? Nathan and Angela were both giving him looks that did not bode well for him. Peter's room had been baby-proofed each year, due to his uncontrollable need to be insanely clumsy, yet bruise like a peach. It had been years since Peter had had a bruise, let alone one of this caliber. Suddenly, Arthur felt nervous. He _had_ been drinking last night. Quite a lot, in fact. Had he done something last night, something truly unforgivable? Was _he _the reason little Peter had that slightly hand shaped mark on his baby soft skin? What had he done?

**{-j-} (Elephant)**

AN- Argh! So very short, but I couldn't find anywhere else to end it. Keep checking for updates, because I plan on popping out a few more tonight!! Feedback fuels my finger!!


	2. Nathan's Home

Title- You're My Brother

Rating- PG/PG-13 at the most

Warnings (in theory)- Cursing, sexual innuendo (lol… love it.), minor child abuse (emotional, and a little physical, but nothing unreasonably shocking, or graphic.), and my favorite… Guy Love!! (But not of the slash variety.)

Pairings- Nathan/Heidi Angela/Arthur

POV- switches from Arthur, to Peter, to Nathan, to Angela, then repeats. Unless I see need to switch the order, which I may. Just to keep you on your toes, you see.

AN- New obsession, new story. Enjoy. Reviews make me smile, flames make me cry, but both keep me writing!

AAN- don't be angry with me, those who read my HP fiction, I'm working on a new chapter for Glass Slippers right now. Only a few more pages until it's done!

AAAN- also, my computer doesn't recognize if 'Peter' is capitalized or not, so sorry if I miss any.

AAAAN- also, please enjoy my uber creative page breaks. Feel free to use them in any text or IM conversation you may find need of them.

**^-^ (Tiny smile)**

"Maisy, if you could be so kind as to take Peter and get him some ice for that bruise? I believe it's time Mr. Petrelli and I had a little conversation." Angela's voice was calm, a sure sign she was pissed as hell. And rightfully so. Someone had hurt her son, and all signs pointed to her husband. The housekeeper gave a short nod, and took Peter's hand into her own, leading him away from the inevitable explosion. The sensitive boy didn't need to hear another one of their fights, no matter how justified it may be. Nathan, for his part, seemed completely and utterly confused, for the second time in his life. The first being the time peter was brought home from the hospital, and was revealed to be not the little girl they had all anticipated, but a premature little boy. But that was easy to get over, once that boy got you under his spell. The fact that his father, the man he hoped he would one day become, had hit his baby brother? Not so much.

"Dad, what did you do? You didn't hit Peter, did you?" Nathan hoped and prayed the answer was no, so he could find the bastard who dared to harm Peter, kill him, and get on with his life.

"Who else could it have been, Nathan? You and your father are the only men in this house, and that mark was too large to have been made by the women who work here. As we were with you the whole time you've been here, I doubt it was you. Besides, you love Peter. We all know how Arthur feels about the boy." Her words were full of acid, but the fact that her eyes were glittering with tears made it all the worse. Not much made the great Angela Petrelli cry. Hurting Peter was one of them. Arthur, while remorseful, refused to be talked about as if he wasn't there.

"Last night I was upset, and I did find peter hiding behind the couch, instead of in bed, but I never even touched him. I sent him straight to bed." Nathan looked relieved, but Angela, ever the protective mother, pushed on.

"And after you sent peter to bed?" she coaxed, eyes steely.

Arthur sighed.

"I had a few drinks. More then a few. But I stayed downstairs all night, and I didn't hear anything from up in Peter's room." At this Angela looked perplexed. Cold, cruel, and downright nasty as her husband was, he was no liar. He truly had no idea what had happened to Peter.

"Nathan, do you think you could talk to Peter? Maybe he'll be able to tell you what exactly happened last night." She asked, knowing her oldest would never turn down one on one time with his baby brother. She wasn't disappointed.

"Of course, Ma." He said, giving his father a strange look.

"If I find out it _was _you, father or not, forget wishing Peter had never been born, you'll wish _you_ had never been born." With that Nathan left the room, in search of Maisy and Peter.

**;- (Flirty birdie)**

Nathan found the two in Peter's bedroom, Peter coloring in a coloring book. It looked like everything was fine, had one not been able to see the righteous fury in Maisy's blue eyes, or the way Peter clung desperately to Maisy's arm.

"Hey, Pete. How are you doing?" he asked, trying to avoid staring at the bruise that was so out of place on Peter. But nearly as much as the fear in those eyes, eyes that were always so full of happiness, and wonder.

"My head hurts, Nate. Are Mommy and Daddy gonna fight forever?" Peter's question made Nathan sigh. Only Peter could manage to act younger then his ten years, yet still find ways to ask the most difficult questions. He was 10, going on 6, going on 30.

"I don't know, Peter. Daddy did a bad thing last night. Do you know what he did?" Nathan cringed internally at calling that man 'daddy'. That word had never been part of his vocabulary. Peter looked up at Maisy, who nodded encouragingly, one hand running through the ridiculously long hair that normally stopped being cute on little boys around the 2nd grade. Not the case with Peter, though.

"Daddy had lots and lots of the smelly stuff to drink last night. Then he and Mommy were fighting about me again, and then Mommy locked Daddy out of their bedroom, so he had to sleep on the couch." Peter stopped to take a breath.

"He looked cold, so I just snuck down to give him a blanket, but he didn't want it." Then Peter stopped talking, resuming his coloring. Nathan raised his eyebrows.

"And then…" he coaxed. Maisy gave him 'the Look', and turned to Peter.

"What else happened, Hon? You can tell us. Is your father the reason you have that bruise?" this was, evidently, the wrong thing to ask. Peter jerked away from Maisy, and as a result, fell to the floor. The two adults watched Peter try to stand up, knowing that offering help would just aggravate him further. But when he finally managed to stand, he wasn't red with embarrassment, or even blood. He was white. Paper white with fear. Maisy reached out for him, and he quickly retreated, eyes pleading. Nathan took a cautious step forward. Peter took an even smaller step closer, longing in his eyes. Nathan turned to whisper to Maisy.

"Give us a few minutes, maybe he'll feel better about talking if it's just me." She nodded, knowing that the 12-year age gap had no effect on the Petrelli brothers' relationship.

"I'll go see if Angela needs any help castrating her husband." She gave Peter a sad look, closing the door behind her. As soon as it was shut, Peter ran at Nathan, tears falling freely.

"The brown boy said not to tell anyone but you about what Daddy does. Somethin' about being vigilant, or whatever. I can't even tell Mommy, unless the brown boy says it's okay!" Peter's eyes were wide at the thought of keeping a secret from his mother.

"What do you mean, Pete? What brown boy? What does dad do to you?" he asked, trepidation clear in his own brown eyes. Peter looked nervous.

"Daddy's not nice, Nate. He hurts me. The brown boy said that he's had to race my memories lots of times, so daddy won't get in trouble. But this time he raced Daddy's memories, and let me keep mine." Peter whispered, a shiver wracking his small body. Nathan held Peter to his chest, making sure his face was turned away. He didn't want Peter to see the fury in his eyes. It would terrify the already traumatized child.

"Don't worry, Pete. He's never going to touch you again. I promise." he said into the baby soft hair of his brother.

**%[ (Future Peter)**

Angela gave Arthur a blank stare. Or, it would appear blank, had you not known her. Unfortunately, Arthur did know her, and thus, could easily see the anger, mistrust, and general hate in her eyes. Whatever it was he did last night, it was going to cost him his family, he was sure of it.

"I swear, Angie, I don't know what happened last night! You know me. You know I'd never harm either of the boys!" he said, keeping his voice neutral.

"Do I, Arthur? You don't exactly hide your disapproval of Peter, and that whiskey bottle was full just yesterday. Whatever it is you did, if you don't fix it now, you're going to lose everything. Me, the boys, the money… all of it, gone. The man I married would never have struck his own child. If you did hit Peter, this marriage is over." Arthur was close to breaking the Petrelli code and falling to his knees at Angela's feet when Nathan walked in, fury written across his handsome face.

"You son of a bitch. You hurt Peter. More then once, I imagine. Now he's up in his room, going on and on about some black kid who supposedly erased your memories, like you made him do to Peter over and over again. How many times? How many times has Peter had a bruise that somehow couldn't be explained?" Angela gasped.

"When I left you and Peter here during that big charity event last summer, you didn't forget to baby proof his room, did you? Those bruises were all from you!" between Angela's fire filled eyes, and Nathan's sad stare he knew he was finished.

"But I don't remember any of this! What if Peter's lying, and got in a fight at school, or something?" Nathan's glare made him want to take back that admittedly stupid remark.

"Has Peter ever lied? Ever? You, on the other hand… Who knows what else you've done, what with your mind erasing black kid. And by the looks of it, he isn't too keen on helping you out. Do you hurt him, too?" Arthur stood without a word, and left the room. The front door was slammed a few seconds later. Angela turned to Nathan.

"Take me to my baby." She said, rock hard shell crumbling. Nathan nodded, and led the usually strong woman up the stairs. Peter lay sleeping in his bed, thumb in mouth. Angela choked on a sob.

"He hasn't sucked his thumb since he was seven. When you first left for college. My poor baby…" she sat by the sleeping boy, running her fingers through his hair. Nathan left, giving the mother and youngest son time alone. He had a father to question. Or at the very least, convince to come back. Nathan wasn't stupid. No matter what the reasons were, when Angela decided to file for divorce, his father wasn't in some bar, drinking away his troubles. He was in a restaurant somewhere, surrounded by lawyers, making sure he kept everything. Including Peter.

AN- still very short, but hey, better to end it here, then keep going, and have it turn to crap, right? Will have third chapter up by midnight tonight.


	3. Retrieval

Title- You're My Brother

Rating- PG/PG-13 at the most

Warnings (in theory)- Cursing, sexual innuendo (lol… love it.), minor child abuse (emotional, and a little physical, but nothing unreasonably shocking, or graphic.), and my favorite… Guy Love!! (But not of the slash variety.)

Pairings- Nathan/Heidi Angela/Arthur

POV- switches from Arthur, to Peter, to Nathan, to Angela, then repeats. Unless I see need to switch the order, which I may. Just to keep you on your toes, you see.

AN- New obsession, new story. Enjoy. Reviews make me smile, flames make me cry, but both keep me writing!

AAN- don't be angry with me, those who read my HP fiction, I'm working on a new chapter for Glass Slippers right now. Only a few more pages until it's done!

AAAN- also, my computer doesn't recognize if 'Peter' is capitalized or not, so sorry if I miss any.

AAAAN- also, please enjoy my uber creative page breaks. Feel free to use them in any text or IM conversation you may find need of them.

**:-8 (Chipmunk)**

Arthur Petrelli sat emotionlessly in Linderman's office, awaiting his fate. Going to the man was a risky move, especially considering how close the man was to Peter. But at the very least, the man would ensure that Angela wouldn't get anything out of this divorce.

"So, let me get this straight. Angela and Nathan discovered your… appreciation… of alcohol, and the little fact that whilst under the influence of said alcohol, you like to vent your frustrations on Peter? And now what, you want me to come in and stop a mother from doing as nature intended? Frankly, I'm flattered you find me that powerful." Linderman paused here, running his fingers over a dead flower, watching as it came back to life.

"What I find disappointing, however, is that you seem to think that I somehow condone the abuse of small children, particularly children as well behaved as Peter. I may be a cruel man, Arthur, but I have never harmed a child in my life, nor will I assist you in harming your own son." Arthur exhaled sharply.

"What am I supposed to do then? Just sit by and let my wife take me for all I have? Let my life be ruined because of one bruise that I don't even remember giving the boy?" Arthur steamed in his seat. Linderman raised a brow.

"From what I've heard, and seen, it was more the just a bruise. The Haitian boy you 'adopted'? You should know better then to think a seventeen year old, who you pretty much kidnapped, would sit idly by as you ruined another child's life. He was quite pleased when he told me all about what you've done, how many times you've forced him to erase your own son's memories of almost five years of abuse. Oh, and of course, the fact that you experimented on Nathan and the Strauss sisters a few years back, just because you thought their DNA could handle the changes. Did you know that Barbara died last year? Had to cover it up, but then, her abusive father did most of the work. And Tracy has no idea she even had sisters. Which leaves Nikki, poor Nikki. Her situation is strikingly similar to Peter's, you know. " Here he paused, nodding to one of the guards.

"I believe it's about time you took your leave, Mr. Petrelli. Don't come to me for help any longer. If I do decide to get involved in this, you can be sure I won't be on your side. Have a pleasant evening." With that, the elderly man turned away, watching the streets down below his top-level office. Arthur left without another word, seething internally. So incensed he was, he didn't even notice his son go to the very room he just left, equally infuriated.

***_* (Star struck)**

"Linderman!" Nathan didn't bother to knock. "Linderman, here me out. You can't help Dad at all. Did he bother to tell you _why_ Mom's leaving him? That he hit Peter so hard you can almost see fingerprints on his cheek? If that man gets a hold of Peter—" here he was cut off by Linderman's hand.

"I have already informed your father that I will be taking no part in this. You know how I care for little Peter. Do you truly think so little of me, that you believe I would assist your father in hurting him?" Nathan didn't answer verbally, but his eyes screamed "duh." Linderman sighed exasperatedly.

"Well, there is no time to persuade you to believe me. But you must believe what I tell you next. Your father is not the man you believe him to be. Now that he knows what I know about him, six children are in danger. You must find them, keep them safe. He will be looking for them, intending on tying off loose strings, so to speak." Nathan shivered. Who was his father, really?

"Who?" he asked.

"Tracy Strauss, Nikki Sanders, Rene Samedi, Claire Bennet, Gabriel Gray, and your brother, Peter. You will find Nikki, Gabriel, and Tracy in Anaheim, California. Claire in Odessa, Texas, and Rene lives down the street from you and Peter. Find them, and take them to the location circled on the map that is now in your car, on the passenger seat. Oh, and be either very quiet, and fast, or very persuasive. Claire is seven, and Gabriel is eleven, so it'll be hardest to retrieve them. The others are all teenagers. Their disappearances can be explained away easily." Nathan nodded, afraid to speak. All he wanted was to make sure his father didn't gain custody of his brother. Now he was kidnapping five children, six, including his own brother.

"Anything I should know about them?" he asked quietly. Linderman smiled ruefully.

"Just keep a close eye on them all. They will surprise you in ways you can't begin to imagine. Especially Peter." Nathan raised his eyebrows at this. Peter, while still able to shock people with his intensity, and general maturity, was still fairly easy to read. How could his little brother possibly surprise him?

"So, just to sum things up; I'm kidnapping six kids, three who aren't even past puberty, and hiding them from my father, who wants to kill them?" he clarified, unable to wrap his mind around the weirdness of the day. Linderman gave one of his creepy eye twinkles, and nodded.

"Good luck. You'll be needing it, I'd wager."

***\0/* (Claire)**

Nathan decided to do things the easy (ha!) way, and tackle the three from California first. The taxi he'd had to call via cell phone pulled up in front of a large, yet rundown house, overgrown with weeds.

"Wait here," he said, slipping the cabby a $20. He walked up the cracked paved walkway, and knocked on the door. A boy, who he assumed was Gabriel Gray, opened it. He was tall, for an eleven year old, and his eyes were wise beyond their years. This boy had seen something terrible, it was clear.

"Who're you?" he asked, in typical preteen rudeness. Nathan knew half-truths and lies would not cut it with this kid.

"You're in danger. I'm here to take you someplace safe." The boy frowned.

"What danger? And who are you, anyways?" Nathan sighed. Damn kids and their knowing exactly when not to ask questions, yet still doing so.

"A man is trying to find you and five other kids. One of them is my little brother. You all have something special he wants, but if he gets it, bad things will happen. And I'm Nathan." Gabriel's eyes widened.

"So… if I go with you, will the bad things still happen?" Nathan shook his head. Gabriel smiled softly.

"So then I'm kind of a hero, if I go with you, right?" Nathan nodded with a smile. Little boys and their need to be the hero…

"Okay, I'll go with you. Do I need to take anything?" Nathan shook his head. Linderman had ensured that the safe house would have everything needed to house seven people. Gabriel nodded, and opened the door all the way. He was out the door quickly, but not before Nathan caught a glimpse of dark, cold house. How many children's lives had his father ruined?

**X_X (Dead)**

One down, five to go. The next stop on the way to Texas was Nikki Sanders, who Linderman had warned was in a delicate situation. Nathan took that to mean a situation like Peter's, and had stocked up on medical supplies. The taxi stopped at a small, yet well-kept apartment complex.

"You stay here, okay?" Nathan anticipated the 'no' before it even left the boy's mouth.

"This girl is in a bit of trouble, and I just want to make sure you stay safe, okay? Her father's like my father. I don't want you to get hurt." Gabriel relented, apparently unused to having someone look out for his best interests. This time slipping the cabby a $50, with orders to stay put, and watch Gabriel, he walked the swept path with much the same speed as he had when he heard his father was with Linderman. The tenant list by the front gate had the Sanders' listed in apartment 32b. He pushed open the gate with little difficulty, and quickly located the number. The lights were on, and a TV. Could be heard. He knocked. A man a good seven inches shorter then him opened the door.

'What?" he gruffly asked, beer in hand.

"My name is David. I'm with the FBI. I need to take your daughter Nikki downtown for questioning." He flashed his toy sheriff's badge that Peter had demanded he carry on his person at all times. The man nodded, and called for his daughter. Nikki was a thin girl, of average height, but had an air of superior inner strength around her. Her hair was tied back in a hair band, and her blue eyes seemed to be calculating and memorizing everything about Nathan. For sixteen years old, she had the same jaded look in her eyes as Gabriel.

"I need you to come downtown with me, Miss Sanders. It's about the incident down at the high school last week. You know the one I mean." The girl caught on quicker then he'd thought she would.

"Oh, of course sir. Will I be needing anything?" she had a gleam of hope in here eyes.

"No ma'am, it won't take long, no more then a couple hours or so." The girl's father seemed glad at the prospect of daughter free time, and ushered the two out the door. Once they were in the taxi, she exhaled in relief.

"Thank you so much, mister…" she trailed off.

"My name's Nathan. This is Gabriel. He's like you. We're going to pick up four more kids, including my brother, then I'm taking the six of you to a safe house, where my father can't get you." Nikki frowned.

"What about you father? Why would he want me?"

"You, Gabriel, and the others all have something special inside you. Something my father would kill for. I'm making sure he can't do that." She nodded, and that was that. Gabriel, once getting other the fact that he was within arms reach of a beautiful girl, fell asleep, his head in her lap. She smiled at him, and ran her fingers through his hair, in a motion similar to those of his mother and Maisy, earlier that night.

**-_- (Sleep)**

Two down, four to go. Their last stop in California was going to be a lot tougher to convince. Tracy Strauss wasn't abused, or neglected by her family. She was loved, and slightly spoiled. Why would she want to go with some strange, slightly unhinged looking man who needed a good shave? The taxi was halted to an unexpected halt, the driver shouting obscenities at a pedestrian, while Nikki held her hands over the still sleeping Gabriel's ears. A blonde girl was standing next to the cab, crying. Nathan almost laughed aloud at his luck. The crying girl was Tracy Strauss. He rolled down his window.

"Are you Tracy?" he asked, not believing the luck that had been bestowed upon him. She nodded miserably.

"I'm running away. My parents forgot about my birthday yesterday." Nathan rolled his eyes internally. Really, was running away the only option she had? Nikki looked up.

"Hey, my birthday was yesterday, too!" she smiled. "We're going on vacation. Wanna come?" she smiled again. Tracy nodded eagerly, and Nathan opened the door. Tracy hopped in, all traces of tears gone.

"We need to make a stop in Texas, then a couple in New York, before we leave though. A few other kids are coming too." The kind of ditzy girl simply nodded, staring out the window in wonder, as if she'd never been in a car before. Nathan sighed. Were all of these kids going to be so difficult?

**QK (Ninja)**

Nathan was never, _ever_ riding a plane with three excited kids ever again after all this was over. Even quiet Gabriel wasn't immune to the pure glee children seemed to get while flying in an airplane. Tracy and Nikki were swapping boy stories, while Gabriel was listening intently to the flight attendant who was explaining the plane's mechanics to him and a few other interested people. Read, college students. Nathan popped another Advil, and read the ad for timeshares for the third time. He really wasn't looking forward to the flight to New York with the seven-year-old Claire in tow, either.

AN- a longer chapter, but still short, I'm afraid. Only 2227 words, not counting this AN. Will have part two up before the Super Bowl starts tomorrow. Reviews feed the beast!!


	4. Retrieval Part Two

Title- You're My Brother

Rating- PG/PG-13 at the most

Warnings (in theory)- Cursing, sexual innuendo (lol… love it.), minor child abuse (emotional, and a little physical, but nothing unreasonably shocking, or graphic.), and my favorite… Guy Love!! (But not of the slash variety.)

Pairings- Nathan/Heidi Angela/Arthur

POV- switches from Arthur, to Peter, to Nathan, to Angela, then repeats. Unless I see need to switch the order, which I may. Just to keep you on your toes, you see.

AN- New obsession, new story. Enjoy. Reviews make me smile, flames make me cry, but both keep me writing!

AAN- don't be angry with me, those who read my HP fiction, I'm working on a new chapter for Glass Slippers right now. Only a few more pages until it's done!

AAAN- also, my computer doesn't recognize if 'Peter' is capitalized or not, so sorry if I miss any.

AAAAN- also, please enjoy my uber creative page breaks. Feel free to use them in any text or IM conversation you may find need of them.

AAAAAN- my Claire is based off of different roles Hayden played when she was younger, mainly her role in Ally McBeal. So she's precocious, smart, and funny. Sorry, any Claire haters out here, but I can't have everyone all angsty and whatnot.

**:-1 (Nom Nom Nom)**

Nathan, Gabriel, and the Strauss sisters stood in a busy store in the mall, each with a new pay as you go cell phone. Tracy was testing out her phone's camera, while Gabriel was attempting to take his apart. Only Nikki seemed to be listening to Nathan's instructions to stay alert, and stay together.

"Don't worry, Nathan. I'll keep them safe. You just worry about getting Claire without causing a scene." She meant to be comforting, but Nathan groaned internally at the thought of getting a seven-year-old girl away from her doting family. He doubted she would be running away because of a missed birthday anytime soon. With one last glance towards the three kids, he made his way to the front of the mall, where Claire was reported to be, thanks to Linderman.

**)=] (Two Face)**

"But Lyle, I wanna go to Claire's! They have this lady there now, and she pierces your ears!! Wouldn't that be so cool? You can get one, too!" a high voice mingled with the other voices of pre-teenage girls clamoring around in front of the highly feminine, yet noticeably not pink, store. A boy with blonde hair rolled his eyes.

"There's not enough time, Claire. Dad said that the driver would be here soon to pick you up and then I'm going to Steven's birthday party. And no, you can't come." The boy, Lyle, Nathan presumed, seemed eager to get rid of his little sister. Not unlike Nathan at that age, dumping baby Peter into the nanny's arms the second she got off break and running out the door. Seeing the opportunity for what it was, he stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, but it's my first day on the job, and Mr. Bennet wasn't very clear on where I was going to find her… do you know where I can find Claire Bennet? I'm supposed to be relieving her brother of babysitting duties." He flashed the smile he secretly practiced in the mirror every morning, and watched in more then a little amusement as Lyle's face melted in relief. Apparently he wasn't as strong against his sister's puppy eyes as he acted.

"Yeah, yeah this is her! Mom and dad have to go take care of business in Alaska, so Claire's going to grandma's for the weekend, and I get to stay an extra day for Steven's party." Someone really needed to teach this kid to know when to stop talking. Or when not to talk, period. He had given up some useful information, however. With Claire supposed to be at her grandmother's, the parents wouldn't be out looking for her until they got wind of her disappearance.

"Come on, Claire, let's get you to grandma's house!" he said, in a cheerful, yet slightly creepy voice. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm seven. I'm not a baby." Nathan swallowed a laugh and put on his most grave face.

"Oh, I know, Miss Bennet. Shall I escort you to the car, ma'am?" he asked, putting on the fake British accent that made Peter squeal with laughter. Claire followed suite.

"Why yes, good sir, I believe you may." They linked arms, and flounced away, leaving a confused Lyle behind.

**B-l (Too Cool For You)**

While Nathan was all for kids and the like, he was beginning to think that this was all simply too much. Between Tracy's ditziness, and Nikki's solemn-ness, he couldn't quite see how the two could ever be related, minus the little fact that they were, you know… identical. And Claire and Gabriel did not get along what so ever. She thought he was too quiet, and he found her spoiled. The fact that he appeared to at least greatly dislike, if not hate her, didn't stop him, however, from becoming her protector. She slept on him, she sat by him, he made sure her ears were covered whenever Tracy cursed, or Nathan became frustrated with the fact that since the airport wouldn't let one adult fly with four children, they had to rent a car and drive all the way to New York. The fact that in a few days time he would be with his baby brother again was the only thing that kept him going strong. And about 20 miles over the speed limit, but whatever.

**O_~ (Wink)**

A few Days Time Later

Nathan now knew why cabbies always looked so suicidal. Driving people around was not fun. Especially when those people were five tired, hungry, and bored children. Granted, Rene never spoke, and Gabriel didn't complain… much. And Nikki only ever got loud if she was fighting with Tracy, who never shut up. And Claire had become determined to find the one thing Gabriel didn't know, so she would shout out random questions, which he would, of course, get right. Granted, everyone knew how to spell 'Mississippi', but As Claire was only seven, they played along, 'hmm'ing and 'hah'ing until Gabriel pretended to think of the answer after a few minutes of intense pondering. But no matter how many car games they played, the question from hell still popped up every minute. The next one was due right… about… now.

"Are we there, yet?" it was apparently Nikki's turn, as they decided having Nathan's favorite ask would make the answer more likely to be yes. The car pulled to a stop. When Nathan turned around, they all quickly donned innocent looks, eyes wide, mouths shut.

"Yes, we are. So everyone, you're going to come with me, we'll get my brother, and then we're all going to…" he pulled out the map, and consulted it briefly. He shook his head at Linderman's audacity.

"The house across the street, apparently."

**QE (Ninja 2)**

Nathan used his key to open the front door that was, for once, locked. It swung open to reveal his mother, sitting on the couch, Peter curled at her side. The little boy jumped up, and ran to hug him. Angela rose at a more refined pace, setting her book on the coffee table.

"Peter knew you were coming home today. We've been sitting here for four hours. Where were you, Nathan?" she asked, taking in the five kids standing in the doorway.

"And for God's sake, move so these poor children can come inside and get warm!" Nathan was quick to obey his mother. Peter's eyes widened at the sight of so many young people. At the front of the group was a girl who looked to be about his age, though a few inches shorter then him, and behind her was a tall boy with dark brown eyes and fluffy eyebrows. Like the kittypillars in the garden he found last summer. A pair of twins stood by a very familiar brown boy.

"Nathan, look! It's the brown boy!! He can race memries!!!" Peter was clearly happy to see the teenager, who's mouth quirked up in a brief smile for the ten year old.

"Pete, this is Claire, Gabriel, Tracy, Nikki, and Rene." He pointed to each in turn. "You and them are going to go somewhere to keep you safe from dad, okay?" the little boy nodded sadly, and for the first time, the others noticed the large bruise covering a good half of the little boy's cheek. Claire looked about ready to cry.

"You're daddy did that to you? Why?" Peter bit his lip and shrugged.

"Guess I did somethin' naughty." Nathan was about to protest, but Nikki beat him to the punch. She knelt down in front of the child, maintaining eye contact.

"You did nothing to deserve this, Peter. Your daddy had no right to hit you, just like my daddy had no right to hit me and my sister." Peter looked up at Tracy. "No, we had another sister, Jessica. My dad killed her, we think. Not everyone gets a nice daddy like Claire's, Peter, but it is never your fault, understand?" Peter nodded, crying. She pulled him to her in a quick hug, relishing the warmth of his little body. She released Peter, and Nathan cleared his throat.

"All right, now I need the six of you to go get in the car, okay? Get the little ones in first." He added in a whisper to Nikki and Rene. They nodded, understanding, and ushered the others out to the car.

"Peter and Claire, you two sit in the middle seats, okay? Then Gabriel can choose a window seat, and we'll just squeeze in where ever there's room." Nikki said, pulling the car doors open. Peter and Claire hopped in, and buckled their seat belts. Gabriel took a seat next to Claire. Just as the teenagers were about to climb in, the car doors suddenly slammed shut, and locked audibly. Claire and Peter looked terrified, and they could hear Gabriel shouting at the driver furiously as the now stolen car sped off. A shout behind them told them that Nathan had seen what happened.

"Oh, God. Why didn't you stop them?! Do you know what will happen to them, if my father gets a hold of them?! They die!!" he yelled, his voice cracked as sobs threatened to break loose. The three teenagers looked just as shaken as he, and stared after the long gone car. What now?

AN- Shorter then the last chapter, but I think it's better then the last one, too, so…if you've read anything else I've written, you know that's usually how it is. I start out kind of shaky, but improve as time goes by. I gain confidence from reviews, see. So if you want longer, well written chapter, you know what to do! *wink*


	5. Phone Call

Title- You're My Brother

Rating- PG/PG-13 at the most

Warnings (in theory)- Cursing, sexual innuendo (lol… love it.), minor child abuse (emotional, and a little physical, but nothing unreasonably shocking, or graphic.), and my favorite… Guy Love!! (But not of the slash variety.)

Pairings- Nathan/Heidi Angela/Arthur

POV- switches around a lot. Mainly Nathan's and Arthur's.

AN- New obsession, new story. Enjoy. Reviews make me smile, flames make me cry, but both keep me writing!

AAN- don't be angry with me, those who read my HP fiction, I'm working on a new chapter for Glass Slippers right now. Only a few more pages until it's done.

AAAN- also, my computer doesn't recognize if 'Peter' is capitalized or not, so sorry if I miss any.

AAAAN- also, please enjoy my uber creative page breaks. Feel free to use them in any text or IM conversation you may find need of them.

AAAAAN- my Claire is based off of different roles Hayden played when she was younger, mainly her role in Ally McBeal. So she's precocious, smart, and funny. Sorry, any Claire haters out here, but I can't have everyone all angsty and whatnot.

***v* (Birdie)**

"Where are you taking us?" Gabriel asked, taking charge. Peter and Claire were clearly not going to be much help. The strange man driving the car gave no sign he'd even heard Gabriel's question.

"Gabe? What's happening? Me 'n Peter are scared." Claire whispered. Peter frowned.

"'M not scared." He pouted. Claire raised an eyebrow.

"You're crying." She stated.

" … So?" was Peter's highly educated comeback. Gabriel rolled his eyes, but was secretly glad of the sense of normalcy seeing the younger ones argue created. It was clear both were frightened, though. Claire's hands were shaking finely, and Peter's face held incriminating tracks running from eye to cheek. Peter intrigued Gabriel. Though the boy was only a year younger then him, he seemed infinitely more innocent then he could ever remember being. Without knowing Peter's true age, he would have placed him around Claire's age, given the fact that he was only a couple inches taller then her, and had yet to begin to lose that childish roundness of his face. Youthful looks aside, he seemed to rely strongly on his brother still, and had a trusting streak a mile long. And it was this realization that brought Gabriel to the same conclusion he'd come to many times in his life; he would have to take charge, be the adult. He could feel the comforting lump of his new phone in his pocket, and began formulating an escape plan.

**OK (Man)**

Back at the Petrelli Mansion, Nathan and the others too were making rescue plans.

"What if we used the GPS on the car to—" Angela shook her head, cutting off Nikki's idea.

"If it was Arthur who took them, he would have thought to dispose of the car long ago." The other groaned. Nathan paced the dining room, restless.

"There's no 'if' about it, Ma. Who, other then dad, has any reason at all to hurt those kids? Two of who were from out of state! It was dad. He took Peter, and I'll kill anyone who tries to stop me from getting him back." Nikki placed a cautious hand on his arm.

"No one is trying to stop you, Nathan. But if you don't calm down, and get some rest, you won't be helping Peter or the others. Gabriel is a smart kid, he can protect Peter and Claire, keep them out of trouble. They'll be okay, and before you know it, you'll have Peter, safe and sound." Nathan looked down at her, into her sad, yet optimistic eyes. She truly believed that nothing would harm the missing children. He wished he could believe her. He looked around at the other three, who were seated at the dining room table, phones, papers, and other things littering it. Angela's eyes were red, but she and Rene seemed to be talking about organizing a trade. Tracy was designing posters to hang around New York. Nikki had also been making flyers. Nathan had done nothing except for shoot down other people's ideas. He sighed.

"I guess I'm not being much of a help, am I?" she shook her head no, with a sad, wry smile in place.

"How many posters are you making?"

**DK (Frankenstein)**

After what seemed like hours, the car pulled to a slow stop in front of a house. It was large, yet painstakingly alike the others surrounding it. Blending in. The door farthest from Gabriel was pulled open, and Peter and Claire were pulled out roughly.

"Hey! Don't hurt them!" he shouted, trying to escape the hands that were now reaching toward him. His retreat was proved futile, as the door he was now pressed against suddenly opened, and he fell out of the car. The man who had been driving snorted with laughter, while Claire and Peter helped him up, Claire glaring furiously at their captor. Another man appeared from somewhere and grasped Claire and Peter each by a wrist and led them to the door of the house, not phased in the slightest by their desperate struggles to get free. The driver had Gabriel, and merely grunted in slight discomfort when he stomped ruthlessly on the man's booted foot.

"Unless you want the little ones to be hurt, I suggest you stop struggling. It'd be such a shame to see those sweet faces all bloodied up, don't you think?" At that thought, Gabriel grudgingly stopped struggling, and watched the man who had Peter and Claire closely, prepared to jump at the first sign the two were being hurt. Yet another man opened the door, and the three were led to a small, dark room. Without a word, they were tossed in, and the door was slammed shut. Peter and Claire were shaking, and both had hand shaped bruises that wrapped around their equally small wrists. Peter, with his multiple bruises, dried tear tracks, and bug patterned pajamas was a particularly depressing sight.

"I'm scared, Gabe. So's Peter, even if he won't admit it. What are we going to do to get out of here?" Claire asked, taking initiative. Gabriel pulled out his phone, which caused Claire and Peter to make typical happy kid noises.

"Shh! We don't want anyone to hear us, or they might come in and see us with a phone. Peter, what's your brother's phone number? I forgot it." Peter recited it back instantly.

The phone rang once, and then Nathan Petrelli's frantic voice answered.

**d-_-b (Headphones)**

Nathan's phone rang. He answered it immediately, anticipating something incredibly clichéd, like a ransom demand.

"Hello? Peter?"

"No, it's Gabriel. Peter and Claire are here, too. We're all in one piece, for now. But you need to come get us now. I think your dad took us. And they aren't exactly against hurting kids, either." Nathan's gut clenched at this.

"What do you mean?" he asked, while pulling on his coat.

"Well, Peter and Claire have bruises from being held really tight, and the guys who took us told me that if I struggled, that they'd hurt Peter and Claire. They're scared." The sounds of phone transfer made a static sound in Nathan's ears, and then Peter was on the phone.

"Nate? Ignore Gabe, because I'm not scared. Well, only a little bit. When are you coming to get us?" Peter's voice was a sound for sore ears, indeed.

"Don't be scared, Pete, okay? Me and Ma, and the others are all working really hard to find you, okay?" Nathan hoped his voice came out more reassuring then it sounded in his mind.

"'k, Nate. Just hurry. Oh, Gabe wants to talk to you again, says he knows where we are." Nathan grabbed a pen and paper.

"Mr. Nathan? I know where we are. It's a big house on Segue Drive, um.. not sure what number it is, but it's on the right, and the front door is yellow. And- what is it Claire? Yes, fine, I'll tell him. Claire says she misses you, and that Peter—" Gabe's voice was cut off abruptly, and the sounds of a scuffle came through the tiny speakers of the phone. Nathan winced as the sound of flesh hitting flesh met his ears. Someone was crying, and with a jolt, Nathan recognized his father's gruff voice amongst the din. Then the call was cut off, eerily silent, compared to the violence that had just streamed from the phone. Nathan looked up at the others, who were similarly frozen. He held up the scrap of paper.

"Let's go get them." He said, gathering up any and all supplies necessary. Angela's hand on his own stopped him.

"Don't worry about that, Nathan. Go bring me my baby back." He nodded, and bolted from the house, feet barely touching the ground. As if he were flying.

**& (Mermaid. Think about it.)**

AN- Chapter 5 everyone. Short, I know, and a long wait, but I can only write over weekends, and even then, it's iffy. This is one of about three chapters out of all my stories that I'm actually kind of pleased with the outcome, so let me know how you feel!


	6. Torture

Chapter 6- Torture

Gabriel should have seen it coming. He had been overconfident, stupid and rash. Claire was crying, but miraculously wasn't harmed. Her and Gabriel were tied to stiff backed chairs in a large circular room. They had been tied up for hours, it seemed. Once Peter had succumbed to unconsciousness, the men had left them alone in the room, with threats of a repeat of the 'punishment'. Gabe could honestly say he'd never felt so helpless in his entire life. Not when his father murdered his mother, not when he was kicked out of the eighth foster home, and not even as helpless as he had felt when they had first been taken.

When the guard came in and saw the phone, everything was a blur of motion. Gabe had dropped the phone, the guard had grabbed hold of him and called for more guards, while Peter and Claire fought against them with all their strength. In an effort to cease the commotion, a new guard, larger then the other one, grabbed hold of Peter's arm and twisted. The boy's cry of pain halted all movement. A man, older and yet more dangerous then the guards, entered the room. Peter inhaled sharply at the sight of him.

"Take them to the room down the hall. Punish them. I need to make sure they didn't tell someone their location." Then he was gone. The beefy guard holding Peter gave a cruel smile, and pulled hard on the boy's arm once more, realizing just how nice of a bargaining chip the child made.

"March. You even think about escaping, I'll give baby boy here something to cry about." With that the odd group made it's way to the room they would come to fear in the next hours.

The first thing the guards did, after tying up Claire and Gabe, was restrain Peter. He wasn't strapped in a chair, but his hands were tied behind his back, and he was gagged. In this moment, Gabe hated Peter, and then himself. He had known this boy all of four hours. Why did he care so much? Why was Peter able to draw affection from just about anyone without even trying? But when the big guard drew his leg back and kicked the vulnerable form on the floor, Gabe could do nothing to hold back his shout of anger. Beside him, Claire mimicked his actions. She was fiercely protective of Peter, it seemed, and this had to be just as painful for her as it was for him. The guard's raspy laughter drew him from his thoughts.

"Poor little boy, so sad and hurt. If only Daddy loved you, huh, baby?" Peter flinched, mouth working. The man removed the gag.

"What is it, little one? Are you gonna cry for Daddy? Mommy, maybe?" Peter gave a rare, yet somehow effective glare.

"My big brother's gonna save us. And then, he's going to kill you." Gabe and Claire shared a look of shock. Then Claire gave a smirk.

"yeah, and my big brother's gonna help him!" she said triumphantly. The man rolled his eyes.

"what about you, four eyes? Your big brother gonna come beat up little ol' me?" Gabriel smiled slowly.

"Nope. I am. You won't get away with hurting either one of them. I'll die before I let that happen." The man's eyebrows rose, but he merely sneered at the three children.

"Do you really think that frightened me? Your big brothers are how old exactly? Thirteen, fourteen? And besides, no one knows where you are. It could be days before anyone finds out. Weeks, even. And it would only take one little twist to break the little ones' necks. I'm not a total monster, see. A nice, quick death for the children. You though, yours I'd have to draw out. Or maybe I'll follow a different path. Keep you three alive for days, torturing the little ones, making little Mr. Protector over here suffer insanely." Here he gave Peter and Claire appraising looks.

"These two are quite adorable, wouldn't you say? So small, so… innocent. I know some guys who'd be mighty happy to meet them, you know." Peter and Claire looked confused, while Gabriel's face paled dramatically.

"Don't you _touch_ them!" he hissed, struggling furiously with his bonds. He couldn't, he _wouldn't_ let that happen to them. The man gave Gabriel another sneer, and grabbed Peter by the neck. The boy struggled immediately, but was detained by a strategic squeeze. The man released him, and he fell to the floor, unconscious. Claire screamed.

"My shift's over, but don't worry, little ones, I'll be back in three hours." Then he was gone. Claire turned to Gabriel, eyes wide and teary.

"Peter's not dead, is he?" she asked, sounding her age for once. He shook his head.

"he's sleeping. Don't worry about that man, Claire. Peter's brother's coming to save us. He knows where we are." She sighed with relief. Then she frowned.

"Why did that guy want to keep you alive? He really wants you to be hurt, but not…hurt, you know?" Gabriel had no answer for her. So the two sat in silence, watching Peter's still form.

**(I ran out of icons, so now I'll just write something random. Muhahaha!)**

Oh, how Nathan hated suburbs. They wound around each other so tightly, you never knew where one ended, or where the other began. He'd passed four streets named for flowers, two named for past presidents, and one named for some Cajun dish, but not on Segue Drive. He had tried just looking for houses with yellow doors, but he'd found none. With an angry growl, he threw his arm into the air, until a car stopped by him.

"You lost, young man?" oh, but wasn't that the truth. He spared the elderly woman his life story, and simply asked for directions. She gave a small smirk, and pointed to the street sign just ahead.

"right there. Have a nice night. Stay safe, too. Never know what lurks around these creepy places." Then she was gone. He wasted no time pondering her odd message, and looked down the street, searching for the ever-elusive yellow door. Lady luck threw him a line, and the house sat right in front of him, door indeed a cheery, warm buttery yellow. He had no time to contemplate the irony that such a happy door belonged to the place three young children were being held and hurt, because a shrill scream tore through the night. Nathan slammed into the door with his shoulder a few times, eventually pushing it open. The room was empty. The entire house seemed empty, in fact. Then he heard voices. A rough one that he didn't know, and Gabriel's soft, precise voice. He closed his eyes, and followed the noise. He stopped and opened them. He was facing a wall. Inhaling deeply, he knocked on it, softly.

"Hello?" Nathan released his breath, relieved.

"Gabe, It's me. Nathan are you all okay?" the boy took a while to answer.

"Me and Claire are fine, I guess. But Peter's not doing so well. The big guy hurt him, bad I think, and now he's unconscious, and he's shaking really badly." Nathan clenched his jaw.

'I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" You don't have to worry about a thing. Just stay calm, and watch Peter. If he looks like he's getting worse before I get in there, tell me." He heard a soft 'okay', and got to work on finding a way into the room. He didn't hear the footsteps until it was too late.

AN- short, I know, but ah, well. I try to drag them out, but for some reason these chapters refuse to get any longer. Review and I'll have the next chapter out before midnight on Monday!


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